Comma, Question Mark, Exclamation
by Loriot
Summary: A kiss can be a comma, a question mark or an exclamation point. That's basic spelling that every woman ought to know." --Mistinguett; Cammy in Three Parts.
1. Comma

_(Loriot: I have returned! For the summer, most likely. Woo. So! I have a new story for you. It was initially intended to be a oneshot, but I've been getting antsy, so I'm going to post it in three parts. It was going to be divided like that anyway ... and it'll help those of you with short attention spans to focus. XP I jest. As with all my writings, now so few and far between, I am rusty, and still trying to get a hang of these characters' voices. Forgive any OOCness and enjoy! There is far too little of these two in the world.)_

_**Blanket** Disclaimer: I do not own the Sammy Keyes Series. Please don't sue; this story is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. _

**Comma**

Sammy sat cross-legged on the low wall lining the sidewalk near the high school. She was silent, eyes trained on the main door as she waited. The sun had begun to sink lazily below Santa Martina's skyline; the sky was colored in all shades of orange and pink, with a hint of purple closer to the deep blue of the evening sky. Sports teams trickled out of the high school as practices ended. In groups of three or four , football players exchanged crude jokes loudly, and some flirted with the cheerleaders as they lagged, trying to preserve the few minutes they had between practice and the homework they had waiting. The band kids walked in-step ahead of them, dressed in loose shorts and tees which had their show's name blazoned across the chest; guard girls carried their flags, some took the time to twirl them, others simply jamming the long poles into their cars' backseat. Sammy glanced at the chattering groups briefly before returning her attention to the main doors.

This had become a routine of sorts over the past few weeks. She was finally off the hook, finally finished with her (_well deserved_) community service sentence, finally able to do what she wanted with her time after the school day. Usually she'd hang out with Holly, Marissa, Dot, and Cricket; visit Hudson (_and Mikey. Sometimes_.), or even go home and work on homework before dinner. Yet, as school year had worn on, Casey's absence from the halls of the middle school had become increasingly apparent to her. By the end of October, she found excuses to be near the high school when it let out, or when the theatre department let out, depending on the day. Sometimes she was with friends, often she was alone. Though, to be honest, the first time she ran into him after rehearsal had been purely coincidental. Now she found herself sitting outside the school two or three times a week.

Her visits weren't anything _explicitly_ agreed upon. But by November her after school visits were a given. Casey found that his gaze always flew to "her" spot on the wall whenever he left school, even if he knew she wouldn't be there. Sammy's friends didn't know (_or pretended not to know_) about the increasing amount of time she had been spending with Casey Acosta. The routine became comfortable, familiar. A limbo of sorts where they didn't have to worry about their friends or their families; they just spent time together. Sometimes as friends, often as something_ almost-kinda-possibly-maybe_ more. But they didn't worry about that, didn't try to work out that mess. They just let themselves _be_.

Today, though, Sammy had been specifically asked to be there. He'd sounded concerned when he called their apartment. Before Sammy was able to get any sort of explanation out of him, the director made him get off his cell. Sammy had immediately dashed from the apartment, yelling a quick explanation to Grams. In her hurry she had forgotten that it'd be another hour and a half before Casey would be finished with rehearsal. So she'd sat down to wait, anxiously tapping her foot against the cement wall.

The door swung open, and Casey trudged out. Sammy perked up at the sight of her friend and waved. He waved in response and walked towards her, dropping his backpack on the ground. She uncrossed her legs, allowing them to swing freely over the edge of the wall. He sat down next to her, shoulder-to-shoulder, their jean-clad legs just barely touching. Casey stared at Sammy's hand resting on the edge of the cement, toying with the idea of placing his hand on hers.

"So, what's up?" Sammy nudged Casey, knocking him out of his daze. He shook his head, and looked over at her, smiling.

"Remember how your mom told you she'd ended things with my dad?" Casey sighed, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"My dad told me the same thing, of course … but I don't think they were telling the truth."

Sammy watched him wide-eyed as he explained what he'd come across in the past week – train tickets, hotel bills from a Hollywood address, and – the kicker—a recent voicemail from Sammy's mother on his dad's cell phone.

"So … I asked my dad about it this morning. He avoided the question and sent me to school saying we'd talk later. I'm going to get an answer from him tonight. I already _know_ what's going on, but I think he ought to tell me instead of sneaking around." Casey paused, staring off into the distance, scanning the late afternoon traffic for his dad's car. Sammy simply stared, wide-eyed. Coming to her senses moments later, she slouched and huffed angrily.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" Casey met Sammy's eyes. "It's not your fault."

"I know – it's just – _God!" _Sammy exclaimed and threw her arms upin exasperation_.. "_Lady Lana knows just how to make a huge mess out of _everything_." Sammy groaned and ran a hand through her hair. "I _am_ sorry that my mother is causing your dad to act like this. There's no excuse for having your dad _lie_ to you. Grams'll be furious, I can tell you this much. I don't know what the hell goes through my mother's mind sometimes; she's so selfish! And this time she's affecting more than just me and Grams!"

"I don't want you to get in a fight with your mom because of this; it's just as much my dad's fault as hers."

"Sure, I can see it now," Sammy mocked, cheeks flushed in annoyance. "'I think be best if we didn't tell the kids we're dating _quite_ yet. Samantha doesn't adapt to change well, and I'm sure she'd have an aneurism if she thought I was dating her . . . _friend's_ father.'" Sammy's cheeks grew pinker as she faltered over what to call Casey. She finished the rest of her sentence in a rush, hoping to cover her mistake. ". . . not necessarily an accurate imitation of my mother, but –"

Casey waved a hand to stop her. "I'm sure the feeling was mutual on both ends."

The pair sat in silence. As the sun sank lower in the sky, the cars passing by flickered on their headlights. Sammy bit her lip in thought, still furious at her mother. She glanced at Casey who was staring blankly at the traffic. Having had an entire night to process the information, Casey was feeling rather apathetic towards the whole ordeal. He was upset with his dad, sure, but he couldn't change anything. He just thought Sammy should know, and from what Sammy had told him about "Lady Lana," her mother was certainly not planning on telling her anytime soon.

She finally sighed. "Nothing we can do to change it, I suppose."

Casey shrugged, "They're adults; we're kids. I doubt they'd want to listen."

"No."

Casey stood up with a sigh. "My dad's here … guess I ought to go." Casey paused, and turned, standing in front of Sammy. Her knees were pressed against his thigh. He looked down at her, their height difference more pronounced. "I'm sorry about all this too, Sammy …" He swung his backpack over his left shoulder, gesturing with his right hand as he talked. "I thought that _we_ were finally …" He watched her carefully, taking in her wide hazel eyes, her faint freckles, her mouth, always seemed to be tucked in a sarcastic grin. He'd spent the better part of two years trying to get this girl to trust him, and it was shot to hell in one stupid move by his dad. He sighed dejectedly. "I'm just sorry."

"Like you told me – it's not your fault." Sammy reached out to touch his arm. Her fingers were warm against his cool skin. Casey glanced over his shoulder, watching as his dad pulled the car in one of the empty parking spots. He looked at her once more.

"So," he said, quietly, leaning closer to her. Sammy's eyes widened at the determined look on his face. She shifted slightly so that their position would be more comfortable. Somehow her left knee ended up trapped Casey's. "I guess this is the last time we'll see each other before our parents are an official 'thing.'"

"I guess?" Sammy responded quietly. Her mind, reeling, was slowly processing what was going on.

"And we don't know how long this'll last."

"No," Sammy murmured, her eyes focused intently on his. She sighed inaudibly as he tilted his head to the side.

"But, the point is, right _now_ … _this_ is still okay." Casey closed the gap between them, pressing his mouth against Sammy's intently, his bottom lip caught between hers. Sammy's eyes were wide as he kissed her. Her mind buzzed faintly as it tried to get her attention. Her hand, still touching his (_warm_) arm, closed, closed, gripping tightly as she moved closer. Pressure, softness, _warmth_, and . . . she closed her eyes, kissing him back, but … then it he pulled away. Sammy blinked open her eyes, dazed. Casey smiled sadly. A short distance away, a car horn honked.

"That's dad," he murmured.

"Alright," she responded, blinking rapidly. She was still warm. _All_ over – her arms, her legs, her chest, her _lips_.

_Especially_ her lips.

_God_, she'd never felt so _warm_.

"I … I'll see you later?"

Sammy grinned broadly, "Try to keep me away."

Casey grinned, pulling away from her. "See ya, Sammy." As the car honked again, rolled his eyes and hurried off. As he reached the parking lot he turned and waved at her, a large grin on his face. Sammy smiled slightly and waved back. She watched as the Acosta's car pulled out of the school's parking lot and sighed. She touched her mouth lightly. It was going to be a long year.

_To Be Continued ..._


	2. Question Mark

[_Loriot: I will guiltily admit that I do not have this finished. The third part that is. BUT I really, really wanted to post this. 'cause I do like it ... I rewrote one part about four times (and its the only part that I'm not entire set on, but the show must go on). Two things: 1 - I do reference an obscure movie in this part. A really bad movie called _Troll 2_. I watched it with a few of my friends this past semester for laughs. 2 - I purposely gave my two OCs gender neutral names. It amused me 'cause ... well, you'll see.]_

**Question Mark**

One year, seven months, two weeks, and four days later Sammy's mom and Casey's dad called it quits (_but, hey, who was counting?_). Three months and two days after _that_, Sammy began her sophomore year of high school. She getting closer to sixteen each day and looking forward to getting her license (_a rite of passage rather than necessity_). She could finally fill out a pair of size five jeans and a b-cup bra. Not that she was counting that either; it simply meant more layers to put on, and more straps to argue with. It only mattered because she'd rapidly outgrown her old clothes. And, as in previous years, it took Grams a bit to pull together the money to buy the new clothes. But, really, Sammy just liked being tall – she'd surpassed both Holly and Marissa in height, but still remained almost-eye-level with Casey.

They had remained friends throughout the period which their parents dated. In fact, they had grown closer as the relationship progressed as they were effectively forced to spend time together. Neither had mentioned the "incident," trying to bypass _that_ particular awkwardness as they weathered the early days of their parents' relationship. By the time freshman year had rolled around, the pair acted more like (_really, almost inappropriately_) close siblings than anything else. Sammy had actually obtained a boyfriend halfway through ninth grade. His name was Jamie – an extroverted, sarcastic, and sweet sophomore who played Varsity soccer, was a member of the National Honor Society, and loved to skateboard. Casey had ended up dating a girl from the drama department. Her name was Jude and she was quiet as a mouse until she got up on stage. Even so, they still spent "their" time together, Sammy returning to her place at the wall every few days.

One busy October morning, before classes, Casey and Sammy were hanging out near their lockers, coincidentally placed within a row of each other. Sammy leaned casually against the cool metal, holding her books in one arm as she waited for Casey to finish rummaging around in his locker.

"So, I have decided that I am not and never will be a good babysitter," Sammy sighed as she slouched lower against the lockers. Casey looked over at her, flashing a teasing smile.

"How'd your night with Dot's family go?"

Sammy groaned, lightly kicking Casey's shin. "Do not _mock_ me, Acosta. Skylar somehow got a hold of a container of flour and proceeded to pour it all over the living room carpet while Nick decided it would be a good idea to paint the walls with sparkly blue toothpaste. To top it all off, Sky tried to brush his teeth with Cortisone cream – something which is _not_ supposed to be ingested! I spent a half hour on the phone with Poison Control while Dot tried to calm her brother down." Casey snerked as he shut the door of his locker. Sammy glared. "Why Dot's parents decided it was a good idea to have more kids is beyond me."

"Are you babysitting again tonight?"

"Nah, I've got tonight to myself. Probably gonna work on the book report I have due for Walters or somethin'."

"As thrilling as that sounds – want to have a movie night at my place?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Sammy's mouth. "Tough choice."

"Come on – you, me, and a really bad horror film?" Casey cocked an eyebrow, tipping his head to the side slightly.

"Ah, sure, why not? Grams won't mind."

"Cool. I'll pick you outside the Highrise?"

By seven thirty-four, Sammy and Casey were settling into the Acosta's living room. As Casey was putting in the DVD, Sammy sat down on the couch, propping her legs up across the expanse, a bowl of popcorn sitting in her lap. When Casey turned around and noticed the lack of space left of the sofa, he rolled his eyes. Remote in one hand, he grabbed Sammy's ankles with the other and lifted them, carefully slipping into his seat (_used to the routine by now_). Sammy slouched down further, comfortably resting her feet across Casey's lap. Without a word, Casey hit the play button.

"Where's Warren tonight?" Sammy asked over the sound of the opening credits.

"Out … I think out to dinner with the director he's been working with recently."

"It's awesome that your dad's been doing so well. And on _not_-soaps." Sammy grinned broadly at Casey. Casey shrugged, eyes focused on the television, his fingers gently drumming a pattern on Sammy's bare ankle.

They were silent for awhile, watching as each blatantly stereotypical character was introduced. Sammy continued to munch on the popcorn as the characters sang 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat.'

"Pass the popcorn?" Casey asked.

"Yeah, sure." Sammy sat up, going to hand him the bowl, but as he was about to take it, she playfully leaned forward. "What's the magic word?" Casey blinked, eyes widening slightly as they were drawn to the low neckline of Sammy's shirt. A bit of blue-and-green striped bra peeking out behind her tank-and-hoodie combo. His grip on her ankle tightened slightly as he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Stupid male hormones.

"Geez, Casey, the question isn't _that_ difficult," Sammy joked playfully, (_very much so_) oblivious to what had just occurred. She shoved the bowl into his hands and leaned against the armrest again, smirking as she turned her attention to the movie. Casey stared at Sammy's face in profile as the light flickered off her features. Minutes later he returned his attention back to the low budget green gore on his television screen.

By the end of the movie, the popcorn bowl has been discarded on the floor. With a sigh, Sammy sat up, pulling her legs from Casey's lap and stretched. Politely looking away, Casey shut down the DVD player. He sighed and pulled his legs up on the couch, sitting Indian-style.

"That was possibly _the_ funniest movie I've ever seen," Sammy smiled happily. There was a brief pause before she started laughing loudly. "'Tightening my belt against hunger pains?' Where did the writers come up with this stuff?"

"I have to say my favorite line was either 'You don't piss on hospitality' or … well, the pseudo-sex scene was a riot." Sammy made a face, sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"Ugh … let's _never_ eat popcorn again, please."

"Deal."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Sammy sleepily resting her head on her knees, her legs pulled to her chest.

"Where's Jude been lately? I've not seen her in a while." Sammy questioned Casey quietly, peering at him through half closed eyes.

"Oh … yeah. We broke up a couple days ago."

"… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was a mutual thing. 'We grew apart' as she liked to say." Casey shrugged, meeting Sammy's gaze evenly. To be honest with himself, he was quite relieved it finally happened. Jude was fantastic, he'd really liked her, but … they hadn't _clicked_. 'Course … there was that reason that Jude had brought up …

"Oh," Sammy responded softly. She was silent, eyes downcast. She'd broken up with Jamie months ago. She'd been heartbroken; she remembered crying that night, Grams holding her as she sobbed. Mrs. Wedgewood had called to see if everything was okay, relaying her 'sympathy' to Sammy as best she could.

It wasn't just the break up that had left her aching, though. It was the fight that led up to the break up, and the realization the she'd had in the midst of the argument. Jamie had broken up with her for one very specific reason – she spent too much time with Casey. He accused her of being _in love_ with him. While she was yelling at him, pink in the face, denying everything he'd accused her of – she realized that Jamie was right. She still did care for Casey (_a lot_), and probably always would. He was her friend, her first crush, her first kiss, he was ...

He was taken.

She was furious (_at her mother, at herself_), miserable, and so utterly confused that she, in a very out of character moment, nearly cried on the spot.

That's what upset her the most. The fact that he was taken, the fact that he'd moved on like she had thought she had.

_No_, actually, what upset her most was the fact that she was acting like such a lovesick wuss.

So – she accepted it and resolved not to think about it, carrying on with her life as she'd done in the past, though the thought was always in the back of her mind. Even so, she'd found herself acting like her eighth grade self again – internally spazzing when he came near, daydreaming about his eyes …

And she had thought, had been given reasonable evidence that (_just maybe_) he still felt like she did. The sweet smiles, the casual way he would (_find an excuse to_) touch her … arms, legs, (_even_) hips, the way he teased her. They were actions that she wouldn't have given much thought before, but, now, it they didn't seem as friend-ish as Sammy had once perceived.

And now … now that he was no longer with anyone, she might have a chance. Just maybe. Sammy bit the inside of her lip, debating if she should tell him.

They had been sitting in silence for awhile before Sammy spoke up again, "Did I ever tell you why Jamie broke up with me?"

"Not really … I just know you two had a fight and that was it. Marissa was pestering me for days for details, saying you wouldn't tell _her_ a thing."

"I didn't really tell anyone, really." Sammy sighed. She shifted, sitting Indian Style elbows resting on her knees. Casey mirrored her position, their knees touching. He met her gaze; she returned it evenly, her bangs obscuring her eyes slightly.

"Out with it, Keyes." Casey nudged her knee with his gently. Sammy began to speak, her voice faltering. She absently picked at her already chipping green nail polish. Casey frowned, biting the inside of cheek. "I'll tell you why I broke up with Jude if you tell me why you broke up with Jamie."

"Have you ever noticed both their names begin with 'J'?"

"You're stalling." Sammy blinked; suddenly shy, she averted her gaze.

"I know that Jamie supposedly started our fight, but, honestly, it was my fault. I doomed our relationship to fail before it began." Sammy ran a hand through her choppy hair. She fell silent.

"How?" Casey murmured.

Sammy mumbled something, cheeks growing pink. Casey cocked an eyebrow.

"… Sammy, I didn't catch any of that." Sammy groaned in frustration. This was not going well. At all. Damn her stupid brain! This was the worst possible moment to be unable to form coherent sentences! Taking a deep breath, she tried again, voice faltering.

"He broke up with me because he thought – _knew_ – that I didn't have feelings for him. Probably never did, now that I've thought about it. I've always …" Casey nodded, encouraging her to continue.

Sammy sighed instead, brushing Casey's bangs from his (_warm and chocolaty_) eyes before resting her hand lightly on his leg. Casey's eyes closed lazily, as he sighed, realizing what she'd been trying to communicate. Reaching toward her, he mimicked her gesture. Opening his eyes, he smiled slightly. He watched intently as her head grew dangerously close to his, not daring to breathe. "_Casey?_" she murmured, nervously, questioningly, hopefully. Unable to make a sound, he simply tightened his grip on her leg slightly. Then … Sammy Keyes kissed him. Carefully she pressed his lip to his, hesitantly at first, but as he tilted his head slightly kissing her back, she responded by kissing him harder, pressing her body closer to Casey as he slid his hand towards her torso, his hand warming the inch or so of bare skin near her hips as it brushed by. By the time they'd pulled away, Sammy had nearly ended up in Casey's lap; his hands had found their way under her tank, warming the skin at the small of her back. Sammy's cheeks were burning pink as she avoided Casey's gaze. Placing his knuckles against her jaw, he gently made her look at him. He was grinning blissfully.

"You know, Jude and I actually broke up for the same reason," he murmured before capturing her mouth once more, grazing her bottom lip gently with his teeth. Sammy sighed contently, lacing her fingers through his hair.

_To Be Continued ..._


	3. Exclamation

_(Loriot: This, by far, is the longest section. I'd intended in making them about equal, but no go. I still think it should be a bit longer, to give more of the story, but I don't want to make it too long and bore you so I ended it … though it wasn't so much the end as the middle that I thought needed more. Oh, well. I did cut out one section, as it really wasn't needed in the grand scheme of things. I hope you enjoy this! Please, if you choose to review, let me know what parts you liked, what parts you didn't, etc., and why. Thanks! _

_And, as a note, I am hoping to make my next story, a oneshot, a crack!fic of sorts. One that involves Sammy, her dad, and amusing twist. One person already knows who I have in mind, but beyond that I'm keeping it under wraps until I post the story. :D Though … anyone have any ideas for a 'clever' crime I can use?_

_Also, random thought that's been floating 'round my head for some time ... anyone think that Casey's hispanic? At least partially? 'cause Acosta is a Hispanic lastname, and I dunno where I'm trying to go with this, so on to the story.)_

**Exclamatioin**

Chaos, utter chaos, is what Sammy foresaw in her future. She and Casey had been 'official' for nearly four months, and they had yet to mention it to anyone. They hadn't wanted anyone to know in the beginning, while they were still adjusting to their shift in relationship status. Also, Casey hadn't wanted to hurt Jude by dating someone else so suddenly. But as the weeks slipped by, Sammy was astounded that no one picked up on anything. 'Course, how they behaved around each other hadn't really changed as a result of the whole _dating_ thing. Sammy and Casey still teased each other, cracked jokes at each other's expense, spent time with their own groups. Their friends were already well aware that the couple had "their" time once or twice a month. More often than not, they would even invite others to join them to watch a movie as well. Sammy really didn't want to tell anyone outright. She had a (_bit irrational_) fear of the backlash she could receive from mother and grandmother. 'Course she knew that she was blowing the entire thing out of proportion, and Casey had concurred, while _laughing,_ when she had discussed this with him. Sammy just couldn't help but be a bit paranoid. Casey understood, sympathized, and could honestly care less if anyone else knew.

Casey was pretty sure his dad had an idea as to what was going on, though. Even if he never brought it up, Casey knew his dad was observant enough to pick up on small things – the messy hair, the askew outfits, the light marks on their necks after they'd spent time together. Casey appreciated the trust (_not that he'd take advantage of it_), and didn't mention his suspicions to Sammy.

Sammy.

He really cared about Sammy. Casey was the type of guy who wanted to do things, get things for "his girl," but he also knew Sammy well enough that he understood she would not appreciate it the same way other girls would. Still … a burned CD with her name on it left on his desk for her to find, little notes left in her locker, and other (_sometimes quirky_) ways to let her know she was thinking about him seemed to work like a charm. The couple had kept Valentine's Day simple.

The week or so following that date, Sammy had officially given up on her friends figuring out on their own that she and Casey were dating. If they hadn't noticed by that point, they wouldn't ever pick up on it. Not that she thought they were dense, no, but they were simply too wrapped up in their own lives to actually notice anything. Now they would have to drop the bomb, so to speak. At some point. Later (_preferably_) rather than sooner.

Sammy (_still_) in the back of her mind sensed some foreboding of trouble.

It all started on a Saturday. She had gone over to Casey's house early that morning, greeting a sleepy Warren with a smile. Now she and Casey were sitting at the kitchen table working on their homework (_no, really_). Warren sat in the living room, reading a book. The TV was on, volume low, as background noise while the two teenagers studied. Sammy was going through her math text; Casey diligently worked through his SAT prep book, biting the end of his pencil anxiously. Sammy, her mouth tucked into a worried frown, reached over and slapped his back reassuringly with a soft smile.

"It'll be fine, Case. You have another week to study." Her hand was resting on his shoulder lightly, now.

Casey snorted, but took Sammy's hand and kissed it before returning to his work. They sat there silently, together, for awhile longer. Warren excused himself to go shopping for the week, telling Casey to get Sammy home safely later. Ten or so minutes after he left, Sammy yawned and stretched, closing her book as she was finished with her homework. The late morning sunlight poured through the window, bathing the kitchen table in a bright light. Sammy's gaze shifted to Casey, watching him as he quickly scratched out an equation on a spare piece of paper. Sammy stood up. Placing a hand on Casey's shoulder, she leaned against him.

"Com'on, Casey, why don't you take a break? We could go skateboard, watch a movie, play a game … or _something_. You shouldn't stress yourself out too much. You're nearly burnt out as it is." Sammy carefully took the pencil from his hand and closed the book. Casey sighed, rubbing his (_slightly bloodshot_) eyes with his left hand and gave a noncommittal grunt. Sammy rolled her eyes and tugged on his sleeve 'til he stood up. She looped her arms around his waist; he draped his over her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. "Casey. It's just a test. I know it's a big deal, but the more you stress, the less you'll be able to do. If worst comes to worst, you can just retake it."

"I know. I just keep hearing all these awful things from the seniors. Five hours. Five freakin' hours of filling in a bubble."

"But after that – it's done!" Sammy grinned up at him. Casey smiled (_softly_), and dropped his arms, resting his hands (_dangerously_) low on her hips, gently tracing the hem of her shirt. She tilted her head slightly, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss. She tightened her grip around his waist as she felt his mouth open. Sighing (_nearly_) inaudibly, she reciprocated willingly (_happily_), leaning against the table. He pressed himself against her as he held her, running his hands lightly over her curves, and the couple was so caught up in their moment that they don't hear the door slam. They didn't hear the voice in the hall way. They didn't hear the heels against the hardwood. They did, however, hear the high pitched scream when their intruder found them. The couple jumped away from each other as if they had been electrocuted.

Heather was standing in the doorway, her red-painted mouth hanging open in shock. The three stood silently, in shock, glancing back and forth between the others unsure what to do. Casey was the first to speak.

"Hi, Heather." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Sammy felt her stomach drop – this was _not_ going to end well. She and Heather hadn't really resolved any of their differences while their parents were dating. More than anything they avoided each other, yet Sammy doubted she would ignore the fact she'd just walked in on her older brother sucking face with her "enemy."

"Casey, what the frick! Why were you … _rubbing gums_ with that narc?"

"Well, Heather, you see when a guy and a girl really like each other, they have these certain urges to –"

"_Stop_! Ew! I'm going to have _that_ burned into my brain forever." Heather advanced on Sammy, jabbing her sharply (_rather painfully_) in the chest with a manicured nail. "Whadja do? Seduce my idiot brother or something? I knew you had the hots for him, but I didn't think you'd do anything about it."

"Heather, for the love of—! She didn't _seduce_ me!"

"Dad's gonna hear about this!"

"Fine, tell him, I don't care! We aren't doing anything wrong!" Casey grabbed Sammy's hand, gripping it tightly as he stared down his sister.

"We were practically," Heather shuddered before uttering the last word, "_siblings_."

"Key word being _practically_," Sammy interjected, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Don't tell her to shut up!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Heather approached her brother, shoving him.

"You're acting like a five year old, Heather!"

"Stop!" Sammy stepped between the two. She held a hand up to Heather, the other resting lightly on Casey's chest as he scowled.

"What's going on, guys?"

Three heads snapped to attention, eyes on the kitchen entrance. Warren was standing in the doorway, shopping bags in hand. He (_slowly_) set them on the ground before smiling good naturedly at the three teenagers.

"Would you mind helping me unload the car? I bought –"

"Dad!" Heather was instantly at his side, tugging on his sleeve in what she hoped was a cute way. "Casey was making out with Sammy! Practically on the table! Don't you think that's …" Heather struggled to find the right word, "_inappropriate_?" Casey had the good grace to look sheepish; Sammy stood behind him, slightly, blushing.

"Heather, I really don't think that this really involves you in any way," Warren said, a vaguely amused smile on his face, "Who Casey spends his time with, and how, is his business. _Possibly_ mine, depending on what sort of … _trouble_ he gets into." Warren shot his son a look. "But certainly not yours, Heather. Would you like it if Casey ran to me next time he found out you were with some guy?"

Heather didn't reply. She merely huffed and stormed out of the house. A few minutes passed. Warren continued to unpack the groceries while Sammy and Casey stood there uncomfortably.

"Dad –" Casey finally managed to croak out.

"Like I said, Case. I don't need to know … though; perhaps you and I should have a talk later. Once Sammy leaves?"

"You knew, then? I was right?"

"I was sixteen once, too."

Casey sighed, running a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Sammy gripped his hand (_tighter_), and smiled at him. The kitchen was silent except for the rustling of grocery bags.

Later that day, Sammy decided to (_finally_) let Grams in on her "dirty little secret." She would find out soon enough, somehow, now that Heather knew, and it might as well come from Sammy herself rather than a third party. The conversation started off well enough, but, once Grams found out the duration they'd been dating, it all when downhill.

"_Alone_, at his house …" Grams muttered to herself. Sammy groaned, flopping down on the couch. She wondered if sending her to Hollywood had crossed Grams mind yet. Certainly did after Grams had found out she and Casey had "slept" together during their camping trip post-seventh grade, but now any of these fears had a legitimate influence.

"Geez, Grams. We don't do anything. Well … we do _stuff_, but nowhere near as bad as you're making it in your mind." She ran a hand through her hair thinking that Casey had ought to be grateful that she loved him enough to put up with what this conversations (_and subsequent ones, she was sure_) entailed. She froze half-way through the thought, eyes wide. Love.

Love?

Yes, she was (_pretty-almost-maybe)_ sure, she loved him. In that way. The realization hit her hard, her chest tightening, as she thought about him – about how kind he was, how funny, their mutual interests, how well he knew her … She shook her head, trying to focus on what Grams was saying.

Grams took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes wearily. "Your mother –"

"Grams, I'm nothing like Lady Lana. For one – I generally _think_ before I act. Anyway, Casey and I had this discussion before, about our limits … Grams, I have no intention of pulling a Lady Lana. There is a zero percent chance of that happening in the near future, possibly not until I get married."

Her last comment seemed to calm Grams down. They sat silently for awhile. Sammy's mind still buzzing with new knowledge. Did he feel the same way? Then Grams turned and asked her, "Does Hudson know?"

"_Grams_!"

The following day she was submitted to a similar conversation with Hudson (_apparently__ her grandmother didn't fully trust her_), but into a bit more detail as Hudson was able to give her the "teenaged boy's perspective" and how she should never feel pressured into doing anything. It was a painful conversation, which Sammy had no desire to ever (_ever_) repeat. She was still reeling from the traumatizing conversation that she'd completely forgotten about the whole Heather incident by Monday. She'd been greeted at her locker by Marissa, Holly, and Dot – all three were furious she'd kept something so significant from them, not allowing her to explain herself before they left her for class. The rest of the day went just as smoothly. She lost one of her textbooks, dropped her lunch, and wasn't able to talk to Casey. By the end of the day she was so (_freakin'_) frustrated, that she waited outside of the auditorium until the musical's rehearsal let out rather than in her usual spot. When she saw Casey, she grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him away from the afterschool crowd. As soon as they were in a secluded area of the school, Sammy stopped, throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face in his neck. With a sigh, Casey wrapped his arms around her.

"Bad day?"

"Bad _few_ days," Sammy mumbled. "Your sister can be a pain in the butt. Did Billy say anything to you today?"

"Mainly made fun of me … about you." Sammy snickered. She pulled away from Casey, deciding to lean against the lockers instead. She studied his face, wondering if it'd look any different now, then blinked, returning to the situation at hand.

"'Course he would. Marissa, Holly, and Dot won't speak to me. Well, they did briefly, to tell me how angry they are, but that's about it."

"I'm sorry."

Sammy shrugged, averting her gaze to her high-tops. "It's my fault."

Casey leaned against the lockers opposite Sammy, trying to catch her eye. "It's _both_ our faults, Sammy. They're probably more upset that they had to hear it from Heather than the fact you didn't tell them earlier."

"Yeah … I'm gonna have to make it up to them somehow … and, _ugh_, Grams _and_ Hudson had a - _the_ - talk with me over the past couple of days." She grimaced; Casey flinched.

"I had one with my dad. He asked me outright if we're sleeping together. Then proceeded to give me a lecture about protection, even though I told him the truth, and told me he was too young to be a grandfather."

"Grams, I think, only freaked out as much as she did because of my mother. She won't be trusting me anytime soon. Which, I suppose, is understandable." Sammy scuffed one of her high-tops against the gray linoleum. "Mom had me shortly after graduating high school."

"Oh …"

"Yeah."

The pair was silent. Footsteps in the distance echoed (_sharply_) down the empty halls. Casey watched Sammy as she stood there, slumped against the lockers. He knew her mind was still trying to sort out what she needed to do to repair the relationship between her and her friends. Just something else that sister of his had broken. Uneven bangs obscured her eyes.

"Everything will work out in the end, Sammy," he said softly. She glanced up at him, eyes sad, silently wondering how he could be so sure. "'Cause they're your friends." He chuckled. "Hell, they were pushing you at me in seventh grade before you were sure that you even _liked_ me, right?"

Sammy laughed, rubbing her eyes. "I know. It'll be fine. I just need to get them to listen to me for, like, five minutes." She stood up straight and walked towards him. She hesitated, stopping in the middle of the hallway, her expression unreadable. "Thanks, Casey," she said softly. Casey cocked his head to the side, studying her. He thought she was beautiful, even with her messy hair, the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. She was _Sammy_, and gorgeous because of that. She had one of the strongest personalities of anyone he'd met and loved her for it (_and many other reasons_).

He was silent, watching her, frowning. He was (_thoroughly_) conflicted, mind flying back the weekend. He knew he wanted to tell her how strongly he felt about her, but he wasn't sure. No, not how sure he was about his feelings; he was well aware of them. He'd spent the better part of the previous night thinking things through. This issue was –he wasn't sure how Sammy would take it; wasn't sure if this was the best time to tell her … wasn't sure if she felt the same way.

But, then, considering what happened last time he'd decided to wait to let her know how he felt, perhaps sooner would be better than later.

Casey closed the distance between the, slipping his arms around her waist. He met her eyes. His were soft (_but determined_). She frowned slightly, but smoothed a hand 'round his waist to mimic his hold on her, the other rested on one of his arms.

"Sammy, I … you know, I really do think you're amazing. You're independent, determined, and have got _the_ longest stubborn streak of almost anyone I know, but you're also thoughtful, and loyal, and caring, and funny, and I'm so happy that I have you with me … and this is turning out _much_ sappier than I'd intended it to be, and I know you don't like sappy, but –"

Laughing slightly, Sammy had placed a (_gentle_) hand over his mouth. "Cool your heels, Case." He chuckled at the phrase; she grinned, touching his cheek (_lovingly_) before lowering her hand. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"That I …" he trailed off, his face contorting though a multitude of emotions. She watched him curiously, jumping in surprise when his lips came crashing on hers, kissing her roughly. It took her a minute, but she reciprocated, lacing her free hand through his hair, as she kissed him back with equal force (_not one to be outdone_). When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

"I love you, Sammy Keyes," he declared quietly, brushing a bit of her hair from her face. Her eyes, were wide, shocked. A few moments later, he began to ramble once again, "I don't know if this is a bad time, or even if you feel the same way, but I thought –"

He was cut off when Sammy pressed her lips to his, once again, though not nearly as roughly as before. Casey, surprised, had a delayed response. Before he could respond, though, Sammy had pulled away, smiling broadly. Nothing else mattered in this moment, she decided, nothing. Friends, family – all of these matters could be (_and would be_) resolved later, but right here, right now, this was a moment to be happy.

"I love you, too, Casey Acosta."

_Fin!_


End file.
